Page 23

“Hello, Regal. Long time, no see.”

“A-Alia?”

“It must be ten years almost to the day since we last crossed paths.”

She noted those clear blue eyes of his flicker ever so momentarily to the jagged ridged scar high on her throat, but apart from that, and the slight hesitation saying name, Regal appeared nothing but cool and collected. Bastard.

“Congratulations. I heard of your ascension to the title.”

Dimples deepened, gifting her with an angelic smile.

“I heard of your own ascension. I believe congratulations are also in order.”

Once, Alia wouldn’t haven’t register that as a threat, but now that she knew Regal down to his blackened soul, she understood he was warning her. Overstep with him, and he would happily announce who Alia was to the snobby crowd of aristos. Interesting, it appeared Regal had some intelligence sources of his own. He’d heard she was now Beast of Gloomenthrall, but he hadn’t been expecting to cross paths with her here at the Golden Palace.

Alia gifted him a smile of her own, letting him catch just a glimpse of the fangs and claws she wielded these days.

“Your timing is nothing but impeccable. Ten years roaming the world, only to finally return to witness the tragic and… unexpected deaths of the young Baron and his two brothers within a few short weeks.”

“It was exceedingly fortuitous, Gods bless them all. The quick transition ensured that the Soutner coffers and trade agreements remained unaffected.”

“Your family has exceedingly bad luck. Many having died so very young. Do you ever worry for your own well-being?”

“Not a jot.”

“And your heir?”

Alia noted Regal’s eyes narrow slightly, but that slight amused smile never slipped.

“How is his health these days?”

“Good.”

“Merely good? Given your history, I suggest you work hard to secure it. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how invested my own family is in his health and welfare.”

Unsurprised to see a fleeting flash of smugness radiate from his pretty eyes. Unless you were watching for it, you would have missed it. Regal was beyond pleased to be reminded he had another arrow in his quiver.

“Ah, yes. How is your father’s health these days?”

“Robust and ruddy.”

It was worth reminding Regal that Levi was also heir to Gloomenthrall, and it would make him believe, falsely, that he had some leverage. After all, Levi’s safety was their number one priority. Hopefully the lad would experience fewer accidents from now on in.

“Perhaps the boy and I should pay the Keep a visit soon, let him get to know his Grandsire.”

“A very good idea.”

If their plans to snatch Levi here failed, then it would be good to have a back-up plan. She could already see Regal was plotting and planning. If he could kill her father whilst Levi was a minor, then effectively Regal would rule both Soutner and Gloomenthrall lands, including the Lair. It was excellent bait, but ideally, they wouldn’t need to use it.

“My sisters would be beyond pleased to see and spoil their nephew.”

“Ah… your sisters. They’re all well?”

“Exceedingly so. You know Gloomenthrall women, we’re an almost embarrassingly healthy lot. Why, it would take more than a giant gryfalcon to take one of us out.”

Hah, there, Regal paled ever so slightly. She’d planted the seed.

Regal paused, perhaps waiting to see if Alia would share any more news, but when the silence extended too long, he decided to fill it, to do some gentle probing.

“I’m surprised to see you here, at the Golden Palace. It’s a long way from Gloomenthrall and not really your style, Alia.”

His gaze flicking over her fitted blue jacket with its flaring trail of fabric, her trousers and down to her highly polished knee high boots. Regal’s gaze resting a little longer on the gems studding her collar and cuffs, calculating their worth in an instant. He was that good, she knew. And ten years of exile would have honed his skills.

She wondered how Regal had survived during his banishment. His mother never believed her favourite was at fault regarding the incident ten years ago. She would have supplied him with as much loot as she could gather before he was shipped off. Perhaps managing to send more Regal’s way over the years before her death four years ago.

Given what she knew of him, Alia suspected Regal had used his ten years in exile to do nothing but plot and plan his triumphant return. And by securing the title within two months of his arrival home, he must have thought he was exceedingly close to having all his dreams come true.

Except here now was Alia, reminding him of the past. Hinting that Perri might be alive. That Levi had the protection of her entire clan. Regal must be frantically running the calculations, trying to decide what lies to tell, what rumours to start spreading.

It was time to up his concerns. Let him know she had important friends. He’d try and use them against her, but she had faith Talac could hold his own. All this time he’d been standing behind her, avidly eavesdropping no doubt. Given his spy craft abilities, he’d somehow managed to remain out of Regal’s eyeline. The man was uncanny like that. In a crowd of people, even though he was six feet and six with a chest full of glinting medals, Talac could still manage to disappear.

“I would have thought my reasons for being here obvious. Matrimony. I’m not getting any younger. I have a rather hefty legacy to secure. And I wouldn’t say no to someone suitable keeping my feet warm on these increasingly cold winter nights.”

“You’re here to seek a husband amongst the aristos?”

Mild incredulity laced Regal’s tone.

“We can’t all be lucky like you, Regal. Meeting your one true love when you were in short pants. Marrying her the day of her seventeenth birthday. Romance is for the fortunate such as yourself. I’m afraid I have to be more practical.”

“And knowing you as I do from our childhood scrapes, you have a list of what you deem makes him suitable. Let me guess. He must be honourable. With means. I should imagine you would wish him to be taller than you, that’s probably going to prove tricky. Just look at how tall you’ve gotten since we last crossed paths. And you would need to find a man willing to overlook your… hoydenish ways.”

Gaze flicking down pointedly once more over Alia’s attire.

“Have I left anything out?”

“Yes. I insist he have a title.”

Regal leaned forward, as if to share a joke, but there was a smug glint in his beautiful eyes that told Alia he was looking to undermine or score a hit.

“I think you would have more luck finding a unicorn. But I wish you good fortune.”

“No need. I’ve already found the perfect man here at the Palace. All I need do now is wait for him to woo and win me.”

Flashing a broad smile and deep dimples, Regal made a show of casting a gaze over the party-goers.

“I find I’m unable to pinpoint this extraordinary specimen of a man who puts the rest of us in the shade.”

“Then perhaps…”

Interrupted Talac, taking half a step closer to Alia, she could tell by Regal’s infinitesimal flinch it was as if he had appeared out of thin air. Uncanny skills.

“… you should try looking up.”

“I… I…”

“Prince Zariffe Vallas, might I introduce you to Baron Regal Soutner.”

“Why isn’t he bowing?”

Talac’s words dripped with haughty arrogance.

“I don’t know, Your Highness. He’s new to the Palace, and has perhaps spent too many years in the provincial outer realms.”

It was fun to watch a deep flush of colour sweep across Regal’s face before he practically doubled over.

“Apologies, Your Grace. It’s an honour.”

“Yes, it is.”

Alia had no idea Talac could sound so cold and snobbish, it was all she could do not to burst out laughing.

“You may rise.”

Talac finally conceded, his haughty features shifting into a frown as Regal stood up straight.

“I’m unfamiliar with you, Baron Soutner.”

“Unsurprising, Your Highness. As Lady Alia mentioned, I have spent a number of years travelling, trading and setting up ventures for my family seat. I’ve only recently returned to our fair Realm and taken up the Barony following the unfortunate death of my beloved nephew.”

Regal was oozing charm, he badly wanted the Prince to look favourably upon him. His gaze flicking between Alia and Talac, trying to determine their relationship.

“How are you familiar with Lady Alia?”

“We’re neighbours, Your Grace. The Soutner lands share a border with Gloomenthrall.”

“We share more of a history than that.”

Alia chided.

“True. My siblings and I grew up playing with the Gloomenthrall girls.”

“Come now, Regal. We have a closer association than childhood friendship.”

She prodded, wondering if he would be willing to say the words out loud. All the time they’d been talking, Alia had been conscious that Perri was creeping closer and closer. Brandth at her back like a solid protective shield.

“Some things are too painful still to talk about, Alia. I remain haunted by the loss, the abject tragedy of losing my young bride.”

Regal played the bereaved widower role insanely well. The grief that shimmered in his eyes looked all too real. His slightly padded broad shoulders hunching a little, as if life had dealt him a brutal blow. Nearby ladies, listening in, were gripped with sympathy, their body language indicating that they wanted nothing more than to rush over and pat and comfort Regal. Damn, he was good.

“Which particular loss are you referring to? Your seven older brothers? Your grieving father who never got over their loss? Or perhaps your nephew, and his two brothers who stood next in line to inherit? And let’s not forget the various sisters, nieces and cousins, who met ends all too young and unexpectedly.”

“My family has suffered great and onerous losses over the years.”

Regal acknowledged. His posture once more rigid, shoulders back. Eyes still edged with grief but even as Alia watched he nudged that aside, lifting his chin, nobility and determination shining forth.

“To honour them, in their memory, I intend to dedicate myself to ensuring that the Soutner lands flourish. That the line is secure. That the Soutner legacy will live on and thrive through my descendants.”

“A noble aspiration, Baron Soutner.”

Talac acknowledged.

“Sounds to me like you will need a wife by your side to secure a strong legacy. Is that why you’re here?”

The dimples were back, this time with a self-deprecating smile. Regal’s gaze sweeping over the nearby ladies.

“I would never be so presumptuous. But if the Gods were to favour me, then I would consider myself most blessed.”

“You’ve always been a man who has made his own luck. I have great faith you’ll be successful in whatever you choose to put your mind to.”

Alia made an elaborate show of just noticing the nearby figure clad all in grey. A matching veil covering their face. Plaited red hair sending out fiery glints as the fast disappearing late afternoon sun slipped towards the horizon.

“Oh, Regal, I have someone here who no doubt would also like to wish you good luck. You remember my sister, Perri, don’t you?”

She barrelled on.

“Perri, you’ll never guess who’s here, Regal Soutner.”

“P… Perri?”

Regal’s face was chalk white, his gaze fixed searchingly on the grey veil covering Perri’s face as if he wanted to bore through it.

“Hello, Regal. It’s been a long time.”

“That’s what I said.”

Alia bubbled gaily.

“Ten years almost to the day since we were altogether. He’s here looking for his bride.”

“Really?”

Perri’s tone was nothing but courteous.

“Something tells me he’ll be very successful on that front. What do you think, Perri?”

“Oh, yes. Given how the Gods favour you so, Regal, your bride may already be standing only a few feet away from you right at this moment.”

“Oh, look, the musicians are starting up.”

Alia pointed past the far end of the tents where the lilt of a mandolin and the drum of a beat sounded.

“Come on, Perri. I know how much you love to tap your toe. Lovely seeing you Regal. Am sure we shall bump into one another again and again at one or other of these events for the brides.”

“Brides.”

Echoed Perri in a merry voice.

“They’re everywhere suddenly, are they not? Be careful where you step then, Baron Soutner, you wouldn’t want to carelessly stumble over yours and not know it.”

* * *

Perri focused her gaze upon Alia’s back, putting one foot in front of the other as her sister pushed through the party-goers. Breathe. Blink. Swallow. It was time to breathe again. She’d just spoken to Regal. No, not just spoken. Taunted him. The equivalent of shooting a cannon across his bow, declaring war.

She felt… giddy. Facing off with him like that. Speaking up. It was gratifying to discover that all the old memories, and the whirlwind of battering emotions that had effectively chained her over the last ten years were nothing but dust. They had no hold over her. She was free.

Yes, she still loathed Regal. But she no longer loathed herself. She forgave the blinkered child she’d been. Who’d fallen in love with a golden boy, and married a golden young man the day of her seventeenth birthday. Perri forgave herself.

As they emerged onto the grassy area where the musicians were set up to one side, and a few young couples were dancing, Perri took a big deep breath. And it felt glorious. Like a prisoner emerging from a long stretch in the fetid darkness.

“Are you okay?”

Alia squeezing her sister’s hand, pulling her to a halt.

“Yes. Yes. I feel… rather marvellous.”

She could do with a celebratory drink though. Squeezing Alia’s hand in turn.

“We did it.”

“We certainly did. Now we shall have to wait and see how Regal responds to our presence here.”

“Did you see how pale he turned? It was most gratifying.”

“Yes, the ghost of his presumed dead wife appearing before him, he wasn’t expecting that, was he?”

“Not one little bit. Though do you think painting a target on father was wise? Reminding him of Levi’s inheritance?”

As servants began lighting a multitude of flickering lanterns, Alia’s suddenly grim expression was framed in stark relief.

“What? What is it? Levi? Has something happened?”

“He’s fine. Rest easy. But I saw him… earlier today, it was why I was a little late attending the family meet and greet party.”

“Why are you only telling me now?”

“Because I didn’t want to fan the flames of your desire for vengeance regarding Regal any higher right before we were due to confront him.”

“How is he? How does he look? Did you speak to him? What did he say?”

“Calm yourself.”

Alia recounted the tale of coming across Levi being bullied by the three older aristo boys.

“You think it’s his thigh bone?”

Alia nodded.

“I watched him move. The difference in leg lengths would explain his limp.”

“My poor baby. He’s fast approaching his grow spurt years, if the legs aren’t matched, then I fear his spine will start to curve and his limp may only grow worse.”

“At least he’s safe from Regal’s machinations for the moment. His father’s attention will be solely focused upon you for the immediate future. I pray Regal spends a sleepless night tossing and turning, wondering whether you will publicly declare yourself his long lost wife.”

“I-”

Perri ceased speaking as a man in a bright yellow tunic approached them. He was young, barely out of his teens, his face pale, his eyes blinking constantly. He kept glancing back from whence he came at two young gentlemen that resembled him somewhat. Older brothers, Perri would guess.

“P…Pardon, Lady Alia.”

The young man looked up, he was barely five feet and ten, the difference between him and Alia glaringly noticeable.

“May I introduce myself? I’m Master Seeve Hail, and I would be honoured if you’d partner me in a dance?”

It was clear that Master Seeve had been dared or bullied by his older siblings into making this request. No doubt Miss Jacquene’s brothers were hoping to embarrass Alia. They would either kick up a fuss if she said no. Or, if she acquiesced, were hoping that she would make a graceless spectacle of herself on the dance floor.

“Are you going to be alright?”

Perri nodded emphatically, she was, she was going to be fine. Even better once Regal was dead and she could wrap her arms around her son.

“I hate to leave you alone.”

“I’ve got her.”

A deep voice pronounced.

Damnation, the barnacle was back. But at least he’d brought refreshments. Brandth, using a single crutch, stopped beside Perri.

“Excellent. Then come along Master Seeve.”

Alia turned, gave her dance partner a wide smile, hooking her arm though his, the couple heading out on to the grassy dance area. Twice, just walking, Master Seeve stumbled. His older brothers were stacking the deck as it appeared the youngest of them had two left feet.

“Here.”

Brandth handed over a large goblet of mead.

“You looked like you could use a stiff drink.”

Blast the man, he was becoming way too attuned to her moods for Perri’s liking. But still, she really wanted that drink.

“Thank you.”

She acknowledged his gesture reluctantly, shuffling backwards several steps so that the light from the nearest torch barely reached the edge of her hem. Annoyingly Brandth shuffled back too, because… barnacle.

With practised fingers Perri undid the tiny buttons along her collar that held the scarf in place. Lifting the edge of the material, slipping the goblet underneath and taking a deep and much needed drink.

“Better?”

“I believe you have a gift for understanding the needs and wants of others… and using that information against them.”

Listening to Brandth laugh in response. That deep masculine sound sliding down Perri’s spine like an intimate caress. It irritated her beyond measure, her body’s reaction to him.

Determinedly Perri concentrated on the dancers. Master Seeve was doing a bang up job of keeping up with Alia. Probably because her sister was gripping him under both elbows and keeping him upright. They twirled, promenaded, weaved and spun like a seasoned pair of partners. All because Alia led, and barely allowed Seeve’s feet to touch the ground. It was not her sister’s first time dancing with a much shorter, inexperienced dancer. She even had the lift parts down pat. Bringing Seeve’s arms in close and leaping in to the air, making it look like Seeve was lifting her.

Perri imbibed more mead. Beyond pleased to note her hand was rock steady.

Brandth’s eyes had adjusted to the dim shadows where they stood and noted the same thing.

“I must commend you, Lady Perri. I don’t think I would be as cool if I were to encounter my long lost spouse. Ten years since you last saw the devil I heard your sister say.”

The last of the mead went down the wrong way. Coughing, Perri struggled to swallow. Frantically trying to get a denial out.

“Please, don’t try and insult me with lies or prevarications. I would just like to know what possessed you to wed such a popinjay?”

Perhaps it was the mead going straight to her head. Or the fact they stood in deep dark shadows together, making it feel like they were disconnected from the real world.

“I was embarrassingly young, very naive, and bone deep sure that I was a mature woman in love, marrying the man of her dreams.”

“And?”

“Over three years my dream slowly turned into a dark reality. Looking back there were many, many signs of what was to come. I was just too blinkered and wilfully gullible to question my husband’s veracity and nature.”

“He abandoned you?”

“He tried to kill me! And gleefully left me for dead.”

“The bastard.”

“Hold.”

Perri reached out, grabbing Brandth’s arm to keep him close, his face a hard shadowed mask in this light, but she knew he intended to seek Regal out, confront him.

“You are nothing but an observer in all of this, Lord De’Luca, remember? Besides… there is my son to consider.”

Taking several deep breaths Brandth visibly calmed enough that Perri felt confident enough to release her hold on him. Not thinking about how very warm and muscular his arm had felt under her grip. Absolutely not being a ninny and getting distracted by her body’s irritating biological urges.

“I’m afraid I will have to recuse myself from the casual observer role when it comes to you, Lady Perri.”

Her stomach dipped, Brandth was going to excuse himself from her life. He’d discovered what he needed to know and was going to retreat. Treating her henceforth like a bare casual acquaintance. Perri’s stomach iced over and abruptly ached abominably.

“You see…”

His hand reached out, fingers trailing up her arm, pushing aside the fluttering free edge of her scarf just enough that his fingers could dip underneath. Perri was frozen, she wasn’t ready, not yet, not for Brandth to see her face. Not to have him look at her with horror, and pity. However, instead of lifting the veil his fingers slid along her collar, brushing against the side of her bare throat to wrap around the nape of her neck. Brandth leaning over, pulling her gently closer to him, resting his mouth against her ear.

“… I find myself captivated by you Perri Gloomenthrall. The way you walk and sit. I’m driven almost to distraction by your every breath. Rivetted by how your hair catches the light and throws out sparks of fire. I’m obsessed with how you hiss in exasperation when I say, or do something that peeves you. Unable to stop wondering if there are far more pleasurable ways to make you hiss… or perhaps sigh. Even the way you say my name, so coolly, drives me a little mad. Because then all I can do is think about ways to drive you to distraction so that it will fall from your lips in a sated whisper.”

Brandth’s heated breath against her ear raised goosebumps over Perri’s entire body. But then he leaned even closer, planting soft, very warm lips against the side of her throat, just below her ear, setting her ablaze.

“I ask you to think on it, Lady Perri. You and I… together, in those few moments of respite when you are not plotting the death of your husband… that is all I ask.”

Good heavens. His lips brushed against the highly sensitised skin of her throat a second time, hatefully briefer than the previous kiss. Over too soon. Then Brandth was releasing his hold on her. Straightening, bowing slightly, before crutching his way off back to the light, to the party.

Perri had never had much call for a fan, but she was in dire need of one right now. Cruddy Hell. Brandth De’Luca had just asked her to… have an affair with him. More shocking however was that she wasn’t immediately dismissing his request out of hand. Temptation, thy name was a man with seductive honey brown eyes, who teased her with the strangest compliments, that meant more to her than if he waxed on lyrically about the colour of her eyes.

The Gods were a fickled bunch, how else to explain how Perri found herself in the crosshairs of a beautiful man. Once, was understandable. Regal had been power mad, craving a beautiful obedient trophy wife. But Brandth, he’d never even seen Perri’s face, and she came saddled with a psychotic estranged husband and a damaged child… yet still, he made his wicked, wicked suggestion.

Hah, it was official, there could be no other explanation, Perri was a magnet for the mad, bad and imminently dangerous to know. Complicating things. Because though she suspected Brandth wasn’t right in the head, it didn’t appear to lessen in any way Perri’s physical attraction to the man. Drat.